My grandmother had a Nat King Cole 8-track (and later cassettes) of his Christmas music that she would just about play on a constant loop during the holidays. She's be gone now for over twenty years but for me, Nat King Cole = Christmas. Miss you, Nana.

His voice is simultaneously soothing and exciting. Classy, rare, and stunning. The summer after college, I had several of NKC's albums and I had a stereo that rarely got a rest. I fell in love with "That Sunday, That Summer" that summer, when my husband and I were falling in love, because our romance got underway on a Sunday evening in August. I played that song so often -- usually following up with "Nature Boy" and "Stardust" -- that I thought my roommate would evict me. I played lots of Streisand and Sinatra that summer too, and Tony Bennett and Matt Monro and Jack Jones and even Elvis and Neil Diamond and James Taylor. But Nat King Cole was, and is, in a class by himself, and he always will be. RIP Nat.

Once more, Dave, the apt caption. I have never seen a man more at ease in front of a piano. Nat Cole singing and swinging was the very picture of grace.

There will never, ever be another you.

Was there ever a smoother voice than this man’s?

That's what he was. My favorite singer. Thanks for posting this shot and prompting me to track down a copy of this issue of Look.

The one who paved the way. Not only a great musician but a wonderful man.
His voice, demeanor, charisma and his charm.
My favorite was when his daughter sang a posthumous duet with her dad.

One of my all time favorites.